So today we, in this nation, celebrate Mother's Day. It's a wonderful tradition I think. I mean, after all, we all have a mother - it's biologically impossible to be alive without one, right? And we should all want to celebrate the fact that moms are a special.
Today I was remeniscing with my mom about my childhood. I remember that she never complained about not having money. She made clothes for my Barbies with leftover materials from her sewing projects. She would even play with me when nobody else would. She, I believe, instilled in me creativity. She made me feel loved and special. We moved every couple of years and it was difficult. Family was everything to me - because it HAD to be. My brother was my playmate and my mom did everything she could to make my life as pleasant as possible. My mom is the best. I have a German nickname I call her and we laugh at the silliest things together. She GETS me.
When I was a kid I played with dolls. Why? I loved to mother those little dolls. I took them everywhere with me and loved them. My mom and dad, when they could afford it, would buy me dolls that did "real" things so that I would not be disillusioned about motherhood (that's what I choose to believe now). As a teenager and young adult I loved kids to the point where I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to have a hand in shaping the minds and hearts of little ones. I wanted them to know they were cared for and appreciated. There was a period of time when I was in high school where I made a big deal out of NOT wanting to have children. Why? Well, I would never tell anyone this, but I was afraid of pain. I did get over it though.
Well, I eventually did get over my fears and gave birth to not one, but two, children. And I didn't want to stop so adoption was the next step. So my dreams of having babies came true and I gave everything I had to them. I was accused of ignoring everyone around me and only thinking of them. I homeschooled them and spent all my time thinking about how I could best take care of them. I took them to some wonderful places for field trips and I made their favorite meals - or at least tried. I woke up in the middle of the night to soothe their hurts and took them to the hospital when it called for that. I planned birthday parties and signed them up for soccer and softball. I took them to practices and bandaged their scrapes. I did, on occasion, turn things over to their dad when the blood was pouring out of their chin and I couldn't handle it. But I stayed up in the middle of the night rocking each of the children when they couldn't sleep. I loved them no matter if they yelled and screamed at me and said they hated me. I gave up the things that I grew up wanting so that I could stay at home and take care of them, be there for them when and if they needed me.
I made mistakes. Yes, I did. I woke up in a bad mood on occasion and snapped at them for doing things wrong. I pried into their lives to make sure that they were okay. I went out with a girlfriend to a movie instead of staying home and cooking for them. I embarrassed them by wearing goofy things in public. I yelled at them for not obeying, and I probably spanked them in anger occasionally. Yes, I made mistakes. I am so sorry.
But in looking back, I never stopped loving my children - not once! In fact, I loved all the children who came into my life. I took each one in my arms and into my heart. I loved them and treated them as they were my own. And maybe that was my downfall in the eyes of my children? That they were not my EVERYTHING? Uh, well, maybe I missed something in my Psych class in college, but isn't that a wee bit narcisistic? Isn't it a little unrealist for the happiness of a person to be solely placed on another person? And is it possible for the Lord to place many children in my life for me to affect? I mean isn't it possible for me to love more children than the three that were in my immediate family? And isn't it possible that the Lord placed Destiny, Malachi, and Nasya into my life for a brief period and maybe it is up to someone else to pick up where they THINK I left off?
I want everyone to know that I did NOT abandon my children. They may, one day, after certain circumstances arise, come to realize that my love never died or even waned. That my heart never once forgot them. That every day I thought about them. But my heart also yearns for the other children whose lives I've touched. Children who needed a caretaker for just a few hours while their parents took a night away together. A classroom of children whose eyes were focused on a picture of Jesus while I told them a story from the Bible. A baby whose mother was at her wit's end because her little one wouldn't stop crying and I lifted that infant and rocked it to sleep. These are all children who I have loved, even for a few minutes, and cared for as if they were my own.
To all the special people in my life who have supported me these last few years, trying to keep my hopes high in that my children's hearts might be returned to me - thank you. And you know what I have come to learn in the last few years? There are other woman who feel similar things that I do. And I have now come to a season in my life when I need to minister to those mothers out there who are confused and may question their capabilities as a mother. I need to encourage them. I need to love on them. I need to listen as they pour out their fears and frustrations. I want to celebrate these mothers EVERY day, in ministry to my Lord and Saviour who brought me through many of my own valleys.
Happy Mother's Day!
No comments:
Post a Comment